


Different Call

by GingerEnvy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Background - Freeform, Clint and Natasha first meeting, Gen, assassins being sassy, back ground Character Death, basically an intense movie that should definitely happen, cat and mouse game, pre-avengers, spies being mysterious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEnvy/pseuds/GingerEnvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Clint didn't kill Natasha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different Call

_Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he made a different call._

______________________________________________________________

**_Bangladesh, Dhaka_ **

Clint let out a silent breath and pulled back his bow, lining it up with his cheek as he gazed at his mark through the high window up in the tower, but of course the moment he was about to release, she turned around. Oh better yet, she was smiling at him even, goddamn this woman. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t shoot her, it was just that, he was told if she saw him she’d likely be able to dodge it, and that wouldn’t be good, it was late and there weren’t that many people around, but still he didn’t want to risk her dodging and him hitting someone innocent.

She was a bitch, some redheaded super chick from Russia, he wasn’t really all that sure of the details, not that he needed them, he was just supposed to put an arrow or a bullet through her brain.

He sighed and moved again, this was the third time it had happened, it was like she knew he was there each time, ever since their first encounter, she was always one step ahead. It just wasn’t fair. He wasn’t used to not getting things done the first time.

He glanced down again and she was gone this time, great. He was halfway out the door when his phone buzzed, “What?” he snapped, and listened as Coulson’s calm and collected voice replied, he frowned.

"But I’m not done yet," he said in response to whatever the other man said, he listened more and sighed, "Fine," he sighed, "Okay, ETA of extraction? Fine."

He hung up the phone and scowled, he was getting pulled away- not because he’d not finished after a month of trying, but because he was needed elsewhere, he was the best sniper SHIELD had, so it made sense he was getting pulled for something else.

But he would be back.

**_Belarus, Minsk_ **

Clint hated formal wear, stupid monkey suits, how Coulson wore them every second of his life he had no idea, he could barely stand ten minutes.

He grumbled some more to make himself feel better as his eyes swept the ball room, dignitaries and rich people mingled, some danced, Clint’s client was over in the corner whispering in some young things ear. Gross.

His eyes swept again moving to the stairs where new people were arriving, he almost passed over the person walking down in a long floor length gown, it was black with crimson accents form fitting, showed quite a bit of cleavage. It was not just Clint’s eyes that were on her, which was possibly the point.

But Clint wasn’t looking at her dress or even her body, despite how nice it was, he was staring at her face, it was the same woman, the one who kept getting away from him.

She wasn’t looking at him though, it looked like she was searching for someone else, she smiled when she spotted them and Clint’s eyes followed her line of sight and saw his client. Really? Really?

He frowned but pushed off from the wall he was leaning against and made his way towards her, he intercepted her before his client even had a chance to spot her, which was good, the asshole would have ‘ordered’ him to escort her to him. The pig. Clint was there to make sure he didn’t get shot, not make sure he brought a date back to the hotel.

Clint stepped in front of her and then offered a hand, “May I have this dance?” he asked, and smirked when she saw him, she didn’t look surprised to see him, however, she only quirked a brow at him and then smiled nearly viciously as she set her hand in his.

"It would be my pleasure," she replied, her voice as soft as spider’s silk, Clint knew from that point on, she was probably the most dangerous thing he’d ever encountered, now he needed to stop thinking that dangerous looked really attractive on women.

He gave her a smile in return and then pulled her onto the dance floor, the song was slow and Clint was shocked that those dancing lessons actually payed off and he wasn’t tripping over his feet, though it sort of felt like she was trying to lead. 

"You aren’t trying to kill me today?" she asked, smiling pleasantly, as they spun.

"Naw, got more important things to do, like prevent annoying dignitaries from overindulging," he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

"Oh dear, that does sound tedious, are you not worried another guest is in fact an assassin sent to kill you?" 

"That would just make things fun," he replied, and his hand slipped from her waist to her hips and then thigh, where there was what felt like a knife, he grinned. He’d seen it when she was walking down the stairs.

She didn’t seem phased by that, in fact she almost seemed pleased that he’d noticed.

"You come here lookin’ for a good time?" Clint asked, she smiled and ran her hands up his arms up to his shoulders and then back down his back and waist, her touch gentle.

"I always have a good time, Mr…?" she asked and he rolled his eyes.

"For a Black Widow you should work on your intel gathering," he said and she mock pouted.

"It is hardly fair you to know who I am, and I do not know who you are," she replied leaned in closer, "Don’t you think?"

"Not really," he said, "The whole point of me killing you is doing it before you even realize you’re dead," he replied, unconsciously leaning closer himself. 

She smiled, and then oh so gently pressed their lips together, just for a moment, but it was a moment long enough. She pulled back with a pleased expression, “How very sweet of you,” she said, “I will try to remember that for next time.”

"You do that," he replied, kind of unsure what happened, but who cared, he was still alive.

"Until next time, sniper," she said smiling dangerously at him once more and then disappearing into the crowd. Clint sighed, but shrugged. Hey he’d gotten the scoop on a Widow, that was something to be commemorated right?

He made sure to watch her though, because he still didn’t trust her, he didn’t drink any alcohol, because that was not in the job description and that would be stupid. He did have a glass of water though, he didn’t want to stick out too much.

But soon, he was feeling a bit…off. He wasn’t sure what was going on, he was…he really needed to pee.

By the time he was back in his head, it was too late. He was back in the room- his key card was not in his pocket by the way- and his client was dead. Though the bastard was still smiling…asshole.

Clint kicked a trashcan before he called it in, because he hadn’t failed an op in…well a really long time.

It wasn’t until the other Agents were there before he noticed the note, he frowned and picked it up and had to stop himself from kicking something again.

"Thanks for your help, Hawkeye."

It read and then a kiss with bright red lipstick was below that, Clint kicked the bed anyway.

"Oh, that bitch,” he growled, letting out a long breath and shaking his head. 

-

He got pulled after that, he had to work at a desk which sucked, especially because they found out he actually could read even though he told them he couldn’t.

He hated paperwork, he hated paperwork more than he hated asshole vendors at themeparks (long story short, don’t piss off the circus kid), and he really hated those vendors.

Two months he was stuck at a desk, and it only took a week for the other agents to realize he was called the worlds best ‘marksman’ and not ‘archer’ for a reason, he could shoot staples at you accurately if he wanted to.

But only after six other agents went after the Black Widow and didn’t come back was he put back on active duty, this time with the express orders from the director not to fuck up.

**_Belize, Belize City_ **

This time, Clint isn’t taking chances. That woman made a fool out of him, and the only people who are allowed to make a fool out of Clint Barton are Clint Barton, the rest of the people with that privilege are dead.

It was gonna stay that way.

He was watching her, and for once she didn’t seem to notice, she was distracted.

Clint finally took note of the surroundings, he arched his brows in wonder. He wasn’t the only one watching her, there were two-three others.

"Oh, red, what have you gotten yourself in to?" he muttered, curious amused and almost worried all at the same time. Worried because he didn’t want some ass taking his mark. He was the best SHIELD had for a reason. He wasn't going to be shown up by some amateurs. 

He watched the other parties now, as well as her. From what'd he gathered she did something to each of them that pissed them off, so exactly what she did to him. Go figure.

He’s Hawkeye so watching is one of the things he does best, simply by looking at these men, and one woman, he knows which organizations they work for, two are from different criminal sects, the other is from an actual government group. Jeez.

This redhead was trouble, but Clint saw her, cornered, glaring defiantly at the man that had her there, it had been a rookie mistake, he could see her hating herself for it too, but she slipped, she hurt herself, there was unveiled hate and anger in her eyes, but there was also desperation, and a few other things that he was far too familiar with.

He pursed his lips and drew back his bow, seconds later, the man dropped, an arrow protruding from his throat. From that alone, he noticed the other two back off, wow, he did have a name in this game. Freaky.

Natasha would never admit it, or show it, but she was slightly shocked. She had just been saved. By Hawkeye. The man who had been trying to kill her for the past several months. Maybe he just wanted to kill her himself?

She turned in the direction of where the arrow had come from only to see that the man was gone. He'd let her live.

Well that was misleading.

But she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was gone moments later to tend to her wounds and then figure out what was going on.

**_Romania, Bucharest_ **

It wasn't often Clint woke with woman straddling him and a knife against his throat. But when he did he made sure not to panic.

"Why did you do it?"

Her voice- spiders silk, but twice as deadly this time. It took his eyes a little while to adjust in the dark, but then he could see her. Hair in her face, and eyes on any normal person, calm, but he could see just a small glint of wild abandon, or maybe it was controlled abandon, either way she didn't seem all that scared of losing anything.

"Do what?" he replied, his voice a bit rough from sleep. She made an irritated sound in the back of her throat and he had to stop himself from laughing, you know until the knife pressed harder against his throat.

"You will tell me why."

"Because it's fun."

"What?" she frowned somewhat caught off guard.

"Why didn't you kill me? You had plenty of chances," he replied, "But I'm still here."

She pulled back, knife still out, still very dangerously close to his throat, but she moved.

"You killed all of the others sent after to kill you, why not me?"

Her mouth remained firmly closed and she really only glared at him in reply.

They stared at each other for a very long time, and Natasha decided she hated him, this man, he was good. He was a good man, despite his occupation he really was, and she should just kill him now.

"I can help you."

Her eyes snapped to his and she glowered.

"No one can help me, I am beyond it."

"Uh-huh," he said, obviously skeptical, "Seriously though, you could join SHIELD, at least not get into real shitty situations for doing what you do."

"You would offer me a place among people that I have killed and would not have a care for killing more of?"

He shrugged, "You're not the only one who's done it, sorry, you're not that special."

She narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. He grinned rakishly, "Just think about it."

"Why?"

"Because, you look like you could use a break," he shrugged, "Honestly, what's the worse that could happen? We give you immunity and you get to kill people and get paid for it. There's really no downside to this."

"This could be a trap."

"Okay, point, but I'm supposed to kill you, not take you into custody...I'll tell Coulson I brought home a souvenir."

"You are very strange."

"I'm a guy who assassinates people with a stick and string from the paleolithic era, yeah, I'm pretty strange," he laughed, "So...you gonna slit my throat or not...cause I kind of have to pee..."

That got him a look, because really how could this man come so close? But she still had a decision to make.

-

In the end she didn't slit his throat, she went back with him to his handler who looked very unphased, Phil Coulson, he said his name was. He didn't look at her like he was judging though, instead he was looking at Barton, utterly unimpressed, and the other man was pretending to ignore it.  
That was how they were, Phil told Natasha all the things she should be prepared for, that she would need to be cuffed and then interrogated, and as long as she remained nonviolent they may very well accept her into the program.

It didn't take long for Natasha to appreciate Phil Coulson's blunt and concise words, now and later on as she got to know him and Clint, she didn't feel bad for being in his debt, Clint Barton has saved her life, and was giving her a second chance.

That in itself had garnered her respect, she had a debt to repay now, and she would. She would wipe her ledger clean in the mean time. 

Clint Barton may have been somewhat of an idiot at times, and a total dork, but he was a good man, and Natasha Romanov wasn't anything good, but she would do her best to make sure he stayed that way, it was the least she could do.

He made a different call, and it all prepared her for the day she would have to make her own.

**Author's Note:**

> This story idea and plot line was inspired by a friend of mine, and I more or less followed her design, I just wrote it.  
> Anywho, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
